The Feeling
by ShadowPulse69
Summary: What does it mean, to be that of what you were not supposed to be? What you thought you could not be? When you put your own nature aside, for another? What is hate, when you could not first love? What is leadership, when you could not first listen? With every follower, there's a leader. With every rivalry, there's a partnership. With every sorrow...there's a hope.
1. Chapter 1: The Spawnling

**Hello lovlies! Shadow here! First time writing a story about the game I love, wooo! Now, what I'd like to point out is that I know _a majority_ of what the Fallen are, but in the spots that are either too unsure to believe, or just aren't very clear, I will need to make some things up, which yes, head-canons are a thing with me as well. The story is all about the life of an abnormal Fallen, and how a different view could go a long way. Very Fallen-rounded plot, so not much Guardian in it. The story takes place before the Guardian in the Cosmodrome is reborn, but definitely after the Traveler arrived. **

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the character or areas/locations in the game, all of that is owned by Bungie.

 **Okay enough talk! Tell me what you think in the comments! Whether bad or good, learn a bit more in the end.**

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 **Chapter 1: The Spawnling**

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First, there was darkness. A black, endless abyss of nothingness that seemed to envelop the world it knew, or at least of what it knew of the world. It felt tight, pressured within the small space that it felt like it was limited to. It was uncomfortable, and with every passing moment, it only seemed to become painfully more aware of it. It was so stiff, boring, and disgusting in it. It wanted out, out of it's prison. Out of the abyss, out of the darkness.

Then, it came. A singular blink of fresh white light. It was pure, focused moment. It blinded them even, and filled it with a kind of curiosity and wonder. It's body felt tingly, and their mind was almost numb. It almost felt nice. Though, it was only a blink. Nothing more, as the feeling soon faded as fast as it appeared. This agitated the little creature. It had been stuck in some dark cover, and it couldn't even see light for real?

It pushed it's head backward, and then flung it forward, smashing it's head into the hard surface. It whined, for a moment, pain ringing through it's small, fragile head. It whimpered, mostly out of self loathing then pain. As it grieved, they did catch a glimpse of light from a place within the darkness. Soft, shining purple light leaking through the crack. The thing scrambled to that area, and then pushed as hard as it could against the crack, seeing it instinctively as a weakness in the slimy thing containing it.

It drove his back into the thing finally and the outer shell gave way. It opened up, bursting open as the little thing from the inside came tumbling out, not much farther from it. It felt icky, covered in a gross, thick slime that seemed to surround it's skin from head to toe. It was also very cold, feeling a fresh shiver travel down it's spine as they held themselves. The cold did not last long however, as it soon felt itself being warmed by something else. It gave a weak glance up above it, where the source had seeming to have been coming from. A bright, lavender light bathed itself on his flesh, slowing drying away the goop that had begun to peel off of him. The thing was...big, and black. It floated, or it thought. That was all it could really describe it as. A big, black ball thingy with a hole in the front which spewed out purple energy.

The little creature coughed up some of the life fluid that was stuck in it's throat, finally needing to breath after all this time. Fresh, moist air filled it's lunges and it felt extraordinary. It rubbed one of its four eyes trying to get any gunk from it as he could. Everything was all blurry, hard to focus. It had never used his eyes before, and they were getting adjusted to the light. The bright purple aura that thing was putting on it didn't help either. What they did feel though was multiple other eggs around them, signifying that it wasn't the only one, but that they were the first to hatch. It looked around the room, it being relatively big from what he could tell, and covered in a greenish light. Any kind of specific details were too hard for it to interrupt, so it stuck to basic things like color and large blurry objects. Speaking of large blurry objects, it seemed the big black thing had stopped emitting all that extra purple energy. It seemed to stare at it. but whether it was puzzled or observing it was beyond what the creature could understand.

Nonetheless, a gentle, purple light coated around its skin once more, seeming to be more wavy as they traveled across its flesh in rippling bursts. It head looked down under it's feet, feeling the ground move away from it as it floated in front of the large black object. Another flash of purple light in it's face, temporarily blinding its sensitive eyes for a moment, a whine of discomfort coming from it as it rubbed its eyelids. The thing turned around and made its way cross the air and through the metal door entrance, the floating small creature hovering close behind as it seemed to giggle and click in enjoyment at the trick. Though as he was brought along, the many different, and new, colored lights and textures made him blind from the suddenness, unable to see for now, as everything simply seemed to be a bunch of random blobs of random colors moving around. It irritated his eyes and hurt his head. He gave a quiet whimper of stress, pulling his arms to his eyes to cover them from the light. His ears were hearing a lot of new noises too, many clicks, sounds, words, sentences. So many things happening at once stressed his already soft brain.

In an instance, it all seemed to go quiet and stopped. The noise, sound, everything. Abruptly quiet by the slam of a steel door closing. The fires in torches could be heard as they flickered away their beautiful dancing orange flow. There were two rows of them lined up, following the many consoles that were placed out of the way with the high ranked technicians or archons tapping away at the controls. Screens lined the walls and wires covered every corner of the room. At the end of the carpet, sat the large, intimidating Kell. He glared at the Servitor, as if already agitated by this interruption, as he shifted into a posture that would be more befitting of a ruler of a House.

When the Fallen had reached Captain or even Kell in rank, noticeable changes for their respect of the Servitors began to take place. As of when you're a Dreg, Vandal, or even Reaver, you're taught to praise them as your deities or gods. They provided the ether the Fallen needed to transform into higher ranks. Though, when you reach the status of Captain, as time passes, the respect you would once have for them would eventually dwindle into either showing them a moderate respect as an ally, or even as a lesser being. As at when you progress up the ranks, you become smarter with every form you have. When you're Captain, they have a general realization of what they can attack and what they can't. At many of these points, the Captains begin to realize that they are more powerful then even the Servitors that gave them the ether. Which lead into them having the god status they usually had among the lower ranks, dwindling when you got farther up. Yes, occasionally you can see from time to time the respectful and honorable captain treating them at least as close allies, but never shown the respect they once had in their lower state. For this Kell, he saw everything as inferior.

The spawn that was floating slowly uncovered it's eyes, the lack of movement letting it adjust to it's surroundings a bit easier then before. It's hearing was less cluttered and could only hear the sound of the clicking and ticking of buttons. At the sound of the Servitor entering the room, the technicians and archons on their consoles raised their heads one by one, pulling their full attention to the little spawnling it held in it's voidish grasp. They all stared at it, waiting for it's next move. The Kell finally noticed the hovering child above the large eye of void, and raised a hand, using to fingers to gesture the Servitor to come over. Now the Kell seemed more intrigued. The Servitor then began to float forward once more, the child close to it as it traveled the distance between the door and to the Kell, a thousand eyeballs watching its every movement. When it had reached the Kell, it raised the creature in front of it, the Kell putting out two hands as it was lightly placed in his palm. The Kell, seeming interested in the small one in his hands, tilted his head and spoke in his deep voice with E'lik "This is the first of the season, yes?" The Servitor nodded, staring on as the Kell examined the small thing in his hands. It tripped once, but got back up and looked up at the Kell with large, unknowing, innocent eyes. Even the Kell himself couldn't resist a small click of affection for it. He raised another arm, but gently rubbing a finger across its head. It gave multiple clicks of pleasure and happiness as it closed its eyes to enjoy the feeling. He then stated in a soft, quiet voice, as to not hurt the creatures ears "Yes, name it I will." The Servitor seemed to focus on the Kell, as if it was not allowed but a stomp from the Kells foot silenced the Servitor once more from any hostile notions. He spoke again, a bit more darkly "Wise decision, to not challenge." He turned his gaze to the small creature once more, it had begun to play with the Kells thumb finger. He said finally, tender tone accord with his voice now. "Your name will be Phyluro...first of the season."

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 **So, how was it? Don't be afraid to give me some advice! Who do you think the Kell might be hm? Will have to find out.**


	2. Chapter 2: The Pride

**Hello everyone! Shadow here once more! I'm back with more chapters! I'm certainly enjoying myself working on these, and I hope you are too, for those reading these! I appreciate any reviews I get back from you all.**

 **This chapter I'd like to work on the background or current happenings of the house, so you have a general idea as to what going on. Wouldn't want to leave my audience having no idea what's going on now would I? Then again, not like it would take long for you all to figure out which House I'm referring too, heh. Okay, enough chit chat, shall we get started?**

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 **Chapter 2: The Pride**

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After Phyluros hatching, he was immediately taken to an ether machine to receive the implants he needed to live. At his age it was incredibly difficult to get the materials on him, being a newborn with a fragile body, and the constant whining and crying that came from the poor thing. He was taken into the nursery, which had been unused for quite some time, because of the lack of any newborns as of late. This process had to be made so that the race could live. It could not survive without ether, and the little one would wither away without it. So, with every painful process, the cords and cables were pushing onto his body and the mini mask pressed onto his face. Feeling the tubes pushed into his body and the stinging hot material first leaking into his body burned and shook the tiny child's body with pain. He screamed and yelled with agony as the process went on. Though the yelling and screaming soon ceased into whimpering whines as the few dregs who were watched by a Vandal backed away, examining their work as the Vandal stepped forward to take a look at the child.

There, laying on the skinned fur, was a bloody and weak baby, suffering from the newly added materials to it's body. It was stiff, but it was obvious that it was breathing, as the temporary mask on it's face was getting clouded from it's breath. The Vandal pushed a finger against it's throat for a moment to make sure, and found that it was breath, and could feel a beat. With that, the Vandal glanced behind itself at the dregs, and flicked it's hand back, dismissing them as they stumbled out of the den. The Vandal took off it's gloves and set them to the side before taking rag and dipping it in the nearby water-hole they put in the corner for events such as these. It glanced over the child once more, seeing it's pathetic figure in once more. It then began to clean away the blood on the small being, it whining and squirming a bit more as a result, the Vandal having to silence the small Fallen quickly before it continued.

The machine it was connected to was only temporary, there for the beginning of the process. They had millions of them, but none of them had been used for a long time. By the Kells orders the newborns of the seasons past would be killed without mercy. Before hand a meeting had been held between the Kell, Archon, and the Servitors. Whatever had happened in the meeting, was unknown to any other rank. The Servitors had an unbreakable will to speak of what was wanted and the Archons were mainly silent due to long periods of solitude they put themselves in to balance themselves. As for the Kell itself, all Fallen were simply too afraid of the Kell to ask. He was patient, but he was certainly not one to like being questioned. So, with hurting hearts, they were put to death.

Twelve seasons since that day. Twelve seasons had passed since any kind of newborn was allowed to hatch. Finally, the day had come, when the Kell had made his decision to lift the unknown punishment. Much to the House's relief as well. Having gone without new Fallen for so long had begun to diminish it's strength and power over land. Ger'shia was their home, and now they were isolated to only a couple pieces of land. It was as if they were trapped and couldn't move. Terrible feeling. As they died the House of Devils simply picked up after them as well. Each House had their own thoughts and own ideals, they cared not how their acts would hurt the others Houses. How long before the stray line of yellow was removed from the banners? Not to take into the consideration that recently the Nuur'khu had been seen exploring Hikar'morod and more often then usual and murdering patrols without a second thought, according to the Devils at the last meeting. They had already last enough at the Bash'mak Ura, with this loss of land and sudden infestation of Nuur'khu, how would their House hold on to the land what they loved if they could not prosper? As time passed, it only seemed harder and harder to see a hopeful future.

The Vandal snapped out of his daydreaming in a second and looked down at the child, seeing that he had somehow knocked one of the ether cables out and was spilling the precious liquid all over the ground on his feet. It reacted fast, though roughly, shoving the cable back in the child's side as a another cry of pain and a flurry of whines and whimper came after, blood leaking from the wound once more. The vandal was completely stunned. How had he snuck away from reality so quickly as he was cleaning the first child to have come in so many seasons? Usually Dreg were disposable, as they were not the smartest among the other classes, and showed a lack of intelligence or interest for any kind of involvement with the higher ups. Right now, though, at their current state, they had three captains that couldn't even make on party enough to go hunt. They needed all they could get. He would be dead as well if he had managed to kill the first-born of the season and the Kell found out.

The Vandal growled at his own forgetfulness and placed his head against the table which the small one lay quietly on, now only occasional whimpers coming from it. It had mostly gotten used to the pain, much to the vandals relief. Well, not used to it. More learned to endure it. He let out a quiet irritated "Kik.." before pushing himself off the ground and back to the child's attention. He wiped up the new blood that had spurted out and threw the rag aside next to the waterhole. He looked over the child with a silent examination, making sure the child was fully fit to be left alone without it dying of some malfunction. The small creature looked up at him, its eyes sparkling with painful, strained, unhappy look. It hurt his heart a bit more looking at the creature. Despite this, he knew it had to be done. He felt his foot step in some of the spilled ether, lifting it and looked down at the floor. He gave a click of annoyance and glanced out of the small nursery outside. The three dregs were sitting around in a circle, of course, having a very loud conversation about something stupid. He didn't bother to listen to them, what they were talking about was minimal to his current concern. He stamped his foot on the ground, getting the attention of all three of them. I grabbed the nearby rag and threw it at one of them, it smacking into it's face with a loud crack that echoed through the area, as the other two laughed. It got up and hurried over, quick to clean up the vandals mess.

The vandal worked around the dreg to get his gloves, but he looked at the small fallen once more, seeing it's eyes were locked on him in a curious, unknowing stare. He returned the gaze for a moment before he broke himself from it. How odd, and uncomfortable. Something about it though, almost made him want to stay. He had a lone patrol to do within the time, but perhaps he had some to spare?

He set his gloves back down on the table and grabbed a slightly rusted chair from the side. He set it down on the right side of the table directly next to the child's head. Phyluros seemed to gleam at the Vandal as he sat down within a comfortable field of view of the vandal. The vandal returned the gaze once more for a few, before glancing towards the ground. He lifted a hand and rested it in front of the child's head. The little Fallen looked down at it before returning it's look back to the Vandals face. The vandal looked up at ceiling, seeming to be stuck in thought once more. He was thinking. Thinking deeply. Maybe about the future? Phyluros didn't know. He was but a child. Though he had that weird feeling in my chest. It felt empty, pulled at his mind. The child looked at his hand once more, and, painfully, lifted its arm up and slowly etched it towards the vandals bigger hand, before resting it on the top. The Vandal visibly flinched awake at the sudden feeling of a new presence, looking to his hand and then up at the child. The child gave a cheerful, quiet click of gratitude. The vandal couldn't help but soften at the child's reaction. He didn't know what it was about it, but the little one almost seemed happy. As if the pain it was in was non-existent. As if trying to show the vandal that it was okay.

The Fallen soldier turned his hand around, so that the child's hand rested in his palm, wrapping his fingers lightly around the newborns small hand. The vandal looked visibly reassured, as he gave a quiet and gentle hiss of adoration at Phyluros. This was the future. This was HIS future. He couldn't give up hope on his House just yet. Only a little longer he had to wait. Just a little longer, and they would be one of the most known Houses of them all. They would be powerful, a sight to be feared.

He heard a hard knock on the frame of the entrance of the nursery, lifting his head up to see who it was. It was another Vandal, looking between him and the child questioningly. He lightly pulled his hand away from the small one and glanced back up at the other Vandal. It waved for him to follow, indicating that their patrol was up. He gave a quick glance to the tiny Fallen once more before getting up, heading over to his gloves and quickly sliding them on. He grabbed his Wire Rifle and attached it onto his back plate for transport. He walked over to the door, the two vandals giving nods to each other, as the other took the lead. It took another look at the small child, noticing it had fallen into a quiet, peaceful sleep now, before heading out.

The Vandal caught up with it's partner rather quickly, knowing that the patrols were important. It's partner gave an amused scoff. "You already attached to small dreg?" He shook his head, giving a quick response "Only examining newborn after so long. Not used to odd sight." They both went silent for a long moment as they walked through the empty halls, the withered yellow banners flapping in the small breeze that had caught the entrance. They pushed through the entrance, slipping through the crack left behind. There were many cracks, many entrances, but only fit enough for the Fallen to head through.

His partner activated their stealth drive immediately as they entered the shadows of the cave. It waited for the Vandal to slip out, but he didn't quite turn on his stealth drive quite yet. His partner noticed the dream filled kind of stare to the ground he had, and asked suddenly "You believe we still have chance to continue?" The vandal looked over at his partner, seeming surprised and concerned at the sudden question. It continued "We're dying...we get weaker as time goes...you believe we can live on?" It was an honest, and true question. Right now, it seemed as if their world was crumbling before them, and their Houses' walls were being torn down right in front of them. His partner looked noticeably thinner and weaker, food had been scarcer as the patrols had began to lower due to lack of Fallen to hunt. Only so limited supplies you can work with, it looked like a dangerous road ahead, a sad, helpless road that would eventually leave the House nonexistent.

He looked up from his partner, seeming to improve his posture to that of a more suitable warrior of his rank. He looked determined, nodding at his partner. "Yes," he stated proudly, "I do. The cost, is much, but prosper only through turmoil and hard times." He lifted and then rested a singular hand on his partners shoulder, both of them looking each other in the eyes, complete trust in each other linked. His partner nodded, as they pushed each others heads together and closed their eyes for a moment of recollection. He opened his eyes once more and separated their heads, looking at each other once more. They both then said together in unison, as if saying this many times before, " _We are Kings. Kings carry their names because is what we are. And what we always will be, brother."_ With this, he slid his hand off his partners, his brothers, shoulder. The two vandals, clad in yellow, then made their way out of the cave, their withered golden capes blowing behind them in the wind as they pushed out into the shining bright sun. They were Kings. And the price of their House, would never die.

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 **Okay then! This certainly was quite the chapter to make, and was interesting to make as well.**

 **Yep! Their Kings! I felt like Destiny focused a lot of attention on the other three houses but never gave a lot of attention to the House of Kings in the lore. Neither do we face them a whole lot for that matter. I haven't played D2 yet, but I heard they replaced all the Houses with something called the House of Dusk I believe? If they did I'm gonna be a real mad person! I honestly enjoyed the House system in the first game! Hmph!**

 **Anyways, enough of my ranting, don't be afraid to leave reviews on my work! I hope you enjoyed!**

 **Also, I bet you found some odd words in there huh? Here's a little section I got that basically tells you what the words in the Fallen language mean! Got a bit of inspiration on the concept from** **ADAl44T-KB-O, so check them out when you can!**

 **Fallen Language**

 **Listed from appearance:**

 **Ger'shia:** Fallen language for Earth.

 **Nuur'khu:** Fallen language for user of the Light. Basically a Guardian.

 **Hikar'morod:** What Fallen call the Cosmodrome.

 **Bash'mak Ura:** Fallen for The Great Battle of Nuur. What they call the Battle of Twilight Gap.

 **Kik:** Fallen profanity word that means 'Shit'


	3. Chapter 3: The Ghost

**bobfromsiam99-** Thank you darling! The compliments are always nice, I had been looking forward to this for a bit. I hope you enjoy what I have planned.

 **Hello everyone! It's me again! Sorry, as of recent personal events have been keeping me from uploading chapters, my apologies. I'm currently already working on chapter four as we speak, so perhaps this time I'll be able to nail a couple of chapters? Either way, thank you for all the follows and favorites! It really is nice to know some people like my stories.**

 **Okay, let's not waste anytime, shall we?**

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Darkness. Was it back again? So soon, caught with the minimal ray of black void. It was suffocating, there was nothing to love about it, as if Phyluros knew how to love in the first place. The newborns didn't know how love or feel, the brain was but a fragment of existence, projecting the souls mentality into a physical form. Yet that physical form could not keep up. The bursting, fiery spirit that burned within every creature when first brought into the world, could not be portrayed as a helpless child. Weak. Frail and young. The body could not show what the spirit wanted to. At least not at the time. Maybe not ever. Humans were the first to claim this right of using that spirit to gain different heights, attain in which other races could not. It's why it, for so long, was thought that they were the only race to be able to have a spirit. A will. That was soon forgotten. But what does it mean to have spirit? A simple drone was not one who had a spirit. They acted that close to what the Hive would. They have no souls, no will, no true goal of ones own. They all fought for one thing. To delete every ounce of Light that existed. This was not soul or spirit. This was will alone, but not their own. This was another gods will shoved into their mind, forced into it. The will of another, perceiving that of which was of one persons mind. And yet an army at their disposal. One god, and an army of his will alone. But no matter how strong a will, it is not strength that drives it. It is the perception in which one see's it. And because of that, one's will may be strong, yet lose to another. Whether it be because it is just...or if that is their way of seeing what just is. Which then, how does that sound to you? Does it not sound familiar? Tell me, what does your precious Light look like to you? A god, amongst their soldiers. Have you ever wondered why you see the Light when you're about to die?

The small creature took a breathe. It hurt. Everything hurt, from head to toe. He could feel every piercing needle, threaded hole, and painful jab into his side and chest. It was torture. Every stitch. Every little pulse. But it was needed to live. Vision faded in and out of reality, soft noises hitting against his ears. He was dying, this was death approaching. The Dregs carelessness was killing it. Clumsily rushing through the procedure out of fear for their own safety. It was a nightmare for him. In. Out. In. Out. Reality was like a drape being blown by the wind. And then it stopped. Back to black. Damp. Quiet. Still. Calming. Relaxing...Inviting...

And then in a flash of bright white light, he found himself back once more. A new energy bursting through his veins like a roaring fierce river. Every muscle in his body pulsed with a new kind of energy that was indescribable. It almost burned and hurt from the sudden change. He convulsed on the table, feeling the new strong feeling enter his head that he did not understand what was. But understanding is not what you need to do it. He felt alive. Adrenaline coming through with a shock. The will to live.

"Hey! Come on open your eyes! Uuugh...I just found you, thank the Light! That was close!" The spawns eyes shot open as his head cannoned upward and stopped so that his back was straight. His hands clenched as he felt every cord in his body jerk at the sudden movement. He felt the mask covering his mouth giving him fresh oxygen to breath. Words struck up in his mind. Appealing. Appreciative. The small creature soon calmed himself to a normal pace of intake of air. The spawn looked around slowly feeling more aware of his environment. Partly because of the voice that had made itself known. His eyes flickered through the room as an odd chill came over that sent a sensation he could not identify down his spine. He knew there was something here. Yet at the same time he did not know how he knew. It was hiding. As if it did not mean to speak. A hot, head hurting feeling came over his body. He focused on it. Frustration. But at what? It not revealing itself or he not being able to find it? Either way, it was more that he did not know where it was, and he wanted to know. In a sudden act of desperation he began banging his hands into the table and crying loudly wanting to have the attention it wanted. If it would not come out then he would make it.

It was then he heard a voice echo in the back of his head in a worried tone. _"Okay! Okay! I'll come out! Just stop crying okay?! You'll get me caught..."_ Phyluros didn't quite understand what the voice was saying, but by the tone of it, it sure did sound like he was getting what he wanted. The spawn then lowered his arms gently to his sides and stopped crying, shaking the tear that had begun to build up on his face. With this, the voice sighed and with a swish of blue energy a white...thing, appeared in front of Phyluros. It looked like a ball...no, an eye, but on top of that looked as it it had eight triangles stuck to it. The energy was almost wavy when he came through. The child tilted its head at the creature questioningly. It kind of reminded him of those weird eye thing that he saw when he was first born. It was much smaller though, white, and also had a blue eye. It as well had a...different feeling to it. The black eyes had a drowning, deep feeling about them. But this was felt different, as if the air was lighter around it. He focused on the feeling. Soothed.

An abrupt cough caught the small Fallens attention once more. A string of blue light projected from the floating object as it scanned over the hatchling. Phyluros blinked rapidly, his sensitive eyes taking the light straight to his face not the best of things. After some strange noises coming from the thing that could only be called processing, it looked back down at the creature. It looked as if it was about to say something, but they sat in silence for a long time. It then spoke, breaking the barrier it had put up. "So...you're a Fallen huh?"Phyluros narrowed his eyes at the object, making it clear that he could not understand. The thing chuckled with embarrassment, floating closer and looking to the right through the door. "Yeah, uh...sorry, forgot. You can't understand me, huh? Well that's gonna be difficult to maneuver around then. Or tell you what to do, for that matter." It sighed once more. It sounded as if it was tired. Phyluros gave it a blank stare. It looked back over at the small creature and chuckled. "I must be desperate huh...? I couldn't help myself! If I didn't choose someone quick, those Servitor would've found me. And that's a whole can of beans I don't even wanna open." It rolled it's body at the word 'whole'. A chuckle of amusement came from Phyluros. Funny feeling. He focused on it. Enjoyment. The thing looked back at the child, staring at it before chuckling itself. "You know, for a Fallen...you're awfully cute little guy. Ha! Finally I get to call someone that." Phyluros' eyes lit with a kind of happiness, scooting forward a bit towards the thing. It flinched and backed away from the child. A deep pit seemed to form in the child's stomach and his eyes drooped. He focused on it. Disappointment. "Geh...? I-I didn't mean it like that, really! I'm just...awfully cautious. Fallen don't particularly have the nicest reputation. But your young, I...guess I can trust you." Phyluros eyes sparked with delight once more. He didn't quite get what that meant, but it sounded nice. Phyluros stretched out a small hand towards the object. It floated away from the hand instinctively, but one sad glance from the child made it sigh. It inched slowly towards the spawns palm and very carefully set itself down. It flinched, as if expecting him to suddenly do something. But nothing happened. It stilly looked up at the child once more as he brought his hand holding the object to his face. With this, he carefully nuzzled it, before pulling his hand way from his face again.

The object seemed to blink a couple times awkwardly. Not seeming to know how to react, it respond "Eheh...wow. You really surprised me there bud. For a minute I thought you might've done something...guess that's my bad for doubting you. Well, I'm stuck with you anyways." It seemed to shift a bit in his hand. "I know this is a bit of a stretch, considering you don't know what I'm saying, and you probably don't remember- I'm just gonna ask. Do you happen by any chance remember your...name?" Phyluros stared at him for a moment, his mandibles clicking in confusion. "Really? Not one little thing huh?" Phyluros shut his eyes and focused, trying to direct something out of it. Words sprung into his minds, or were they fragments of memories said by others? It didn't matter. He was forcing himself to try and remember something. Hardened recent memories spun past him at a fast rate. His birthing. The eyes. The control room. The surg- The control room! This seemed right to him. The ghost seemed to be able to tell what he was thinking. It lifted off his hand in excitement "You can remember things?! But you're so youn- Never mind that! Keep going, you're getting there! What happened in the control room?" The questioning tone of the object made him think it was a question obviously. _Asking what happened? Screens. Carpet. Floor. Ceiling. Switches. Throne. Hand. Robes. Face. No not face. Mask. Big. Really big. What was it again...? Kell. Yes, Kell! Kell said something about name..._ "The Kell said your name?!" _Quiet. Silence. Thinking. It stops talking. Good. Easier. Kell...spoke. New. Born. Good. Closer...but how close? Name...Repeat. First. Born. Will. Name. Name I...? He named me. But what is my name? Season. Something. Season with something...Fi. Lure. Os. Close! This close. Very close. Fi...lur...os. Phi...luros...no! Close! Not there though...Phy...luros...Phyluros. Phyluros! Phyluros! Yes! This name! My name! It correct. Feels so._

Phyluros looks up at the object and nods excitedly bring his clenched hands up to his chest in confidence. The object seems to twirl in the air excitedly "Phyluros! So that's your name! Wow...you're a special one kid. You shouldn't be able to remember anything at your age...huh. Well, it's nice to meet you, Phyluros." The object gives a light dip in a gesture to nod. "Well, I'm called a Ghost, but I won't get too deep into what it is. I doubt you'd understand. But...you can call me...hm..." The Ghost seems to waver in the air thinking about what he should refer to him as. "Hrm...call me...Ki!" He turns back towards the Fallen child. "Can you remember that? Ki? Can you call me Ki?" As Phyluros was listening he receives a feeling of acceptance in him. He focuses on it. Agreement. The ghost seems to perk up happily "Okay then!" He announces excitedly, floating around the child's head. He rests gently on his shoulder, glancing at a bright-faced youngling. Ki chuckles at the sweet look of the child's energy. He certainly...didn't feel or act like a Fallen should act when they're born from what Ki had heard. But then again, he had never experienced one. So perhaps the rumors were wrong? Oh well. "You know, kid...maybe this won't be as bad as I thought it would be. You seem pretty nice." He watched the child's excitement burst as it clicked with happiness. Yeah...he could get used to this.

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 **Hope you enjoyed the chapter! It was nice making it, now we're getting into the sweet stuff! Can't wait till I'm able to get more and more invested into the story! God I'm excited!**

 **Feedback is always appreciated!**


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